xp_logs | Nathan and Jean-Paul, Thursday night

Not every conversation can cover both pre-trip jitters and deeper philosophical issues. And annoying nickames.

Nathan rubbed his eyes as he peered down at the maps spread out over the kitchen table. "Hate being old," he muttered, getting up and retrieving the case with his reading glasses from where he'd left it on the side table. Just as he was putting them on, the screen doors opened, and he stared steadily at Jean-Paul. "Not a word about the glasses," he said, heading back to his seat. "Come over here and help me sort out additional escape routes."

"Nathan, you wound me. Would I torment you over our common affliction?" Of course, pretending to be virtuous meant that he couldn't needle his friend for needing what was obviously a stronger lens, but ah well. Later. He tapped the white pushpin sticking out of the map. "That is the youth center I take it?"

"Youth center, local airport, two major roads," Nathan said, indicating each pin respectively. "Minor roads," he said, tracing them. "Dirt and gravel. Worse case scenario we make a run into the wilds." It sounded overdramatic as soon as it was out of his mouth, and he made a face.

Jean-Paul considered the map, measuring out the distances in his head. "If you do not mind being carted around like a sack of turnips, I am a decent means of escape on my own. The main limitation is how fast I can move while carrying an unprotected passenger."

"Mmm." Nathan regarded the maps glumly. The pensiveness was all but rolling off him in waves. He lifted a folded piece of paper, eyeing the flight itinerary printed on it. "I'm flying on my British passport," he said. "First time for that."

"It had better pass muster. I am not carrying you across an ocean." Jean-Paul considered. "Would it be better to get Clarice to teleport us somewhere nearby and just make our way in?"

"No, I think I've got that covered. Besides," he muttered under his breath, "I was running around this part of the world eluding capture while she was a preadolescent." He just wished that it didn't sound like he was trying to convince himself of that.

"Only one airport on the map," Jean-Paul noted. "Are we going in and out the same way?" He glanced over at Nathan. "We are going to be there a day, Nathan. Less than a day, technically. And it is just us concluding business that will not ping on anyone's radar."

Nathan shrugged, but it was a strangely unconvincing gesture. "I'm fine. It's not as if the last time I decided to go on with my life in the face of a threat, Mistra shot up a school or something..."

Jean-Paul plucked Nate's glasses neatly from the bridge of his nose and smacked him lightly on the side of the head. "We have talked about you taking on the sins of bastards from your past."

Nathan grumbled, and extended his hand for the glasses. "I can't help but get caught up in planning for the worst-case scenario. You can't teach an old dog new tricks, and the old ones kick back in at the slightest provocation. You still absolutely sure you want to go?" he asked, not quite wryly. "I may twitch the whole time."

"That is what those tiny bottles on the flight over are for." Jean-Paul handed the glasses back, pacing to study the map from another angle. "And I most certainly do want to go. I love athletics, I am just not particularly welcome in that circle these days. That was my choice; I would not take it back if I could. It is still good to be involved again, even if in a peripheral way."

Nathan actually cracked a smile - brief, although the look in his eyes softened. "Athletics in one of their purest forms, too, I think. Kids getting exercise and learning how to work with each other... I have to admit, I'm looking forward to it, too." He waved a hand. "So much of the time Elpis responds to crisis. I wouldn't even want to stop trying to alleviate the dire circumstances, but there are more needs than critical ones."

"We cannot spend all of our time stomping out forest fires." Jean-Paul cleared his throat slightly. "You cannot. Sorry."

"Mmm," Nathan said. "I've been thinking about this. Reading a bunch of books Charles and Joel suggested. Ensuring survival is important. But changing a society needs more than just that. It's one of the reasons why countries like Hungary do so much educational and cultural work when it comes to genetic integration." He folded his glasses, laying them back in their case. "So," he said, "in an objective sense, this is all very much worth it. I just... worry, still."

Jean-Paul nodded in agreement, keeping his eyes on the scarred soldier in front of him. "There is more to life than just surviving. So you go ahead and worry, Nathan. Watch my back and I will do the same for you."

Nathan grinned suddenly, although the expression did nothing at all to hide the look of affection in his eyes. "I told Ray I was taking you on a trip to deepest, darkest Moldova. She told me I wasn't allowed to lose you."

"Oh, of course not. Heaven forbid you lose her favorite elf. I should leave you stranded on a mountain somewhere for putting that idea in her head." Jean-Paul shook his head. "'Deepest, darkest Moldova' my entire...who died and made you Kipling anyway?"

Nathan's grin grew rather Cheshire-ish. "I do fancy myself a poet." The alarming grin faded to something more reflective, but the look in Nathan's eyes was still warm. "As for huffing and puffing about the 'elf' business - it may be irritating, but I hope you do know that she loves you. Quite devotedly."

"It is...sweet, I suppose." Jean-Paul rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I am fine with it, if you and Moira do not mind. But I promise you, Nathan, the first time I am called 'uncle' anything, I am running away to Mars."

"She has lots of uncles," Nathan said, not quite innocently. His gray eyes twinkled as he looked back down at the map. "Only one grumpy elf, though."